Arthur hadn't meant to get involved again. Saving Jun had been a fluke—an irritating, heat-of-the-moment decision he regretted every time the kid asked if they could share his last can of beans. But now Jun was still here, crouched behind him as they snuck along the ruined edge of what used to be a luxury apartment complex. The apocalypse had done a number on it: glass crunched underfoot, vines had burst through marble, and a chandelier hung sideways from a ceiling that had mostly collapsed. Arthur figured if they were going to die—and they absolutely should—it might as well be somewhere that once had room service.
Jun was talking again, whispering something about his sister and how she used to pretend she was a robot. Arthur ignored him. He was busy calculating the safest place to stand that would also, preferably, collapse beneath him if given the right push. Every part of his brain still wanted to check out early—preferably with minimal screaming. Unfortunately, Jun had picked up a habit of mimicking his footsteps exactly, and if Arthur tripped into an abyss, the kid would follow.
So he trudged carefully, resentfully alive.
They found the woman three floors up.
She was holed up in a penthouse lounge surrounded by overturned furniture and what looked like a homemade crossbow trap aimed at the stairwell. It almost went off when Arthur kicked the door open with his usual lack of grace. A bolt thunked into the wall a hair from his ear. He didn't flinch. He'd given up flinching sometime around Day Three.
"Jesus!" came a voice behind a couch. A moment later, a woman popped up, eyes wild, jaw clenched. She had a blade in one hand and a half-eaten protein bar in the other. Her hair was shaved on one side and sticking up wildly on the other, like she'd lost a fight with a lawnmower. Her clothes were practical, military-grade, and blood-stained. She looked exactly like someone who might stab you for breathing near her food stash.
Arthur raised a hand. "Hi. Don't stab me. I'm very killable, I promise."
She blinked at him, then at Jun. Then slowly lowered the knife. "You don't look like a raider."
"Thanks," Arthur said flatly. "We try to keep the pillaging to a minimum."
Jun stepped forward. "I'm Jun. He saved me from a psycho last week. He pretends he doesn't care but he gave me half a granola bar and yelled at a dog for growling at me."
"Snitched on me in record time," Arthur muttered.
The woman looked like she hadn't spoken to a human in days. Weeks, maybe. She hesitated, then motioned them in. "I'm Lena. Don't touch anything. Especially not the tripwires."
Arthur immediately took a step back. "Right. You sound like someone I definitely won't accidentally get killed by."
They settled in awkwardly, Jun eyeing the food Lena had hoarded like it was treasure, Arthur already scanning for exits in case things went sideways. Lena handed over two water bottles and eyed them warily, like she expected betrayal at any second. Arthur got that. He was sort of hoping she'd try to betray him. Would make dying easier.
Instead, Lena surprised him by saying, "You're the first people I've seen in four days who weren't screaming."
"Give it time," Arthur said. "We're due."
That night, the monster came.
Arthur woke to the smell of mold and something metallic—like rust, but wetter. A low rattling echoed through the ventilation shaft. Lena was already up, crossbow in hand, crouched near the window. Jun had rolled off the couch and was blinking blearily under a blanket like a very small, very nervous burrito.
"What is that?" Arthur asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Something big," Lena said. "And hungry."
The thing crawling through the halls wasn't one of the shrieking kinds. It moved like a centipede but sounded like a dying engine, all metal joints and scraping limbs. Its eyes glowed faintly orange beneath an armored skull. Arthur had seen its type before—fast, lethal, and very interested in spinal columns.
Lena raised her weapon, took aim through the peephole, and fired.
The bolt ricocheted off the hallway wall. The creature shrieked, enraged.
Arthur sighed. "Perfect."
They barricaded the door, but it wasn't going to last. The monster rammed it once, twice, splintering the frame. Jun was whimpering quietly behind the couch, Lena was reloading in a panic, and Arthur—
Arthur spotted the chandelier.
It still hung at an angle from the collapsed ceiling above the entry hall. Cracked glass, fraying wires. Heavy. Very heavy.
He did the math. Then immediately regretted doing the math.
"I have an idea," he said, standing up.
"No," Lena said. "Sit down."
"I throw a chair through the window. Monster chases the sound. I climb up and cut the chandelier rope. Monster gets crushed. Everybody wins."
"That's stupid," Lena snapped.
"It's slightly less stupid than dying here in a pile of beige throw pillows."
Arthur was already moving. He grabbed one of Lena's dining chairs and hurled it through the side window. The glass shattered, and sure enough, the creature turned. It was drawn to sound, not scent—some twisted bat-lizard logic.
As it slithered under the chandelier, Arthur grabbed a rusty kitchen knife and leapt onto the rope.
It was much, much tougher than it looked.
He sawed at it, slipping, swearing, gritting his teeth while Lena screamed at him from below and the monster started turning back.
Then it snapped.
The chandelier dropped like judgment day, all 200 kilos of gaudy crystal vengeance. It hit the centipede square on the spine with a crack that echoed down three floors. The creature twitched once. Then went still.
Arthur landed in a heap beside it, the knife still in hand, blinking up at the ceiling.
"Well," he muttered. "That worked."
Lena stood over him, dumbfounded. Jun ran forward, yelling something Arthur couldn't quite hear over the rush of adrenaline and self-loathing.
"You good?" Lena asked, offering a hand.
"No," Arthur said, taking it anyway. "I'm alive. It's a problem."
She smirked. Just a little. "Could've fooled me."
Back in the penthouse, Lena didn't speak for a while. She just stared at him like he was either an idiot or a miracle, maybe both. Eventually, she muttered, "You know… if you're gonna keep saving people like that, maybe stop pretending you're not trying to live."
Arthur leaned back on the ruined couch and closed his eyes.
"I'm not," he said quietly.
But for some reason, it was getting harder to believe it.
And then it happened.
The air shimmered, and all three of them instinctively froze as a translucent blue screen blinked into existence in front of their eyes.
> [Tutorial Phase Complete.]
Congratulations, Survivor. You have lasted 7 Days in the System-Integrated Zone: Tier One.
You have gained:
– +1 Trait: "Accidental Resilience"
– +1 Party Member Added: [Jun]
– [Optional Party Formation Detected: Lena – Pending Acceptance]
Welcome to the True Apocalypse. May luck be with you.
(Note: Luck stat not yet unlocked)